


I know you like it (when I tease you for hours)

by sionnain



Category: Durham County, due South
Genre: Due South - Freeform, M/M, dc/ds crossover, ds_kinkmeme, durham county - Freeform, mike/ray
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-14
Updated: 2009-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-02 18:40:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sionnain/pseuds/sionnain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Completely and utterly PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I know you like it (when I tease you for hours)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Waltzforanight for the beta! Written for the DS_Kinkmeme on LJ.

**I know how you like it (when I tease you for hours)**

Mike has Ray on his back, hands on Ray's hips, holding him down while he sucks his cock. He's being a _bastard_ about it, though, going at it slow and easy. They're never slow-and-easy, Ray doesn't _want_ slow-and-easy, and the only reason Mike is doing it that way at _all_ is because he knows it's driving Ray fucking _crazy_.

Not that Ray is one to complain about Mike sucking his cock, because he fucking loves it, but they've just had a hell of a fight (knock-down-drag-out would be the nice way to put it) and Ray is a ball of stress and tension and he just wants to fucking _let go_. But every time Ray tries to thrust up, tries to get _deeper_ and _harder_ and _faster_, Mike shoves him down and doesn't let him do it.

"Fuck, Sweeney, come _on_," Ray pants, twisting, reaching down to frantically grab Mike's shoulder. If Mike had hair, Ray would've been pulling it and trying to force Mike to give him what he wants, which was to fuck Mike's mouth hard and fast, make the son-of-a-bitch _take_ it, until Ray came down his throat so hard he didn't remember why they were fighting in the first place. And Mike, usually he'd be all over that idea. He likes it when Ray does that, he _tells_ Ray he likes it--_you're so fucking hot, Kowalski, when you fuck my mouth and make me take it_\--so Ray has no fucking _idea_ what the problem is.

Okay, maybe--maybe he does. It's his fault they were fighting in the first place, because Ray is possessive and jealous and hey, usually that's okay because Mike is, too. Fuck, usually he's _worse_ than Ray is. Which might be why they work, both of them so fucking intense all the time, because God knows Ray Kowalski will never be _too much_ for Mike Sweeney. And that's great, better than great, but Ray has this problem about knowing when to shut up and what not to say and _don't fucking think I'm going to let you fuck around on me, fuck you, Sweeney, I'm not Audrey,_ and okay, yeah, that was really fucking low. Ray hates that he does that, fights like that, says shit he knows is going to hit Mike in the _soul_ and turn his bright eyes cold and empty.

Mike looks up at him and shakes his head. "I don't think so, Kowalski." His fingers are leaving bruises in Ray's skin, so tight on his hips, and the pain is so fucking good, perfect, but Mike's not doing anything to his cock but _petting_ it, fuck.

Ray apologized for what he said, told Mike that was stupid and he didn't mean it, because he didn't. And Mike, fuck, he has to know Ray well enough by now to know that Ray means that. Mike likes Ray because Ray _does_ that, throws all that dark shit back at him, everything that Mike thinks makes him a terrible person that no one should ever love or want or, Jesus, _like_. Ray does, all three, and Mike gets that if Ray thought any of that was a problem he'd never fucking throw it out during a fight.

Still doesn't mean it was any less of a dick move, though. Which is why Mike is fucking tormenting him to death, here, with the whispered kisses and the light, teasing glance of tongue against Ray's cock.

"I fucking _said_ I was _sorry_, Michael, you know I just say shit and--_fuck_, harder, God, you're _killing_ me, here," Ray pants down at him, desperate, two seconds away from begging--which is what Mike wants, probably.

Ray's cock is lying on his stomach, hard and hot, and Mike is mouthing at it, up and down the length of him. He raises his head and fixes Ray with a look, the one Ray's seen him give crooked cops and guys who try and pick up Sadie when she's visiting and they're out somewhere, and the guy who gave them shit at the bar last week when Ray was so happy about the Cubs beating the Braves that he kissed Mike, right there in front of God and everyone. And that look is fucking _scary_, and it had pretty much been that glare that had gotten Ray all hot and bothered for Mike Sweeney in the first place. So it's not helping _now_, when Ray is so fucking out of his mind he can barely _breathe_.

"It's not what you said, Kowalski, though--yeah, you fucker, that was a low fucking blow and you know it." Mike pinches his thigh, which Ray likes when Mike is sucking him hard, but right now it just hurts and makes him want _more_ and fuck Mike Sweeney, goddamn it, _fuck_ him. "I can't believe you really fucking thought I was going to leave that party with that chick. What the fuck? When I want to fuck a girl, don't I always fucking share?" Mike's voice sharpens. "Answer me."

"Yes," Ray gasps out, swallowing hard, shifting and shuddering and great, now he's thinking about the last time they did that, picked up a girl and brought her home. Ray remembers watching as Mike went down on her, made her come twice with his tongue and his mouth and God, Ray _loves_ watching that, he really does. Which means if Mike really _had_ wanted to bring that girl home from the party, Ray would have been a-o-kay with that, so why the hell did they end up in a fight about it anyway? "You always fucking share, yeah, you do."

"Besides, it's usually you that gets girls to come home with us," Mike says, and there's flash of a grin, and Ray realizes somewhere beneath all the desperate-to-come _flailing_ that it's okay, Mike's forgiven him, Mike's just being an ass because that's what he _does_.

It's true. Mike is intense and hotter than the sun, but Ray's the charming one, Ray's good with people, people _like_ Ray. And Mike tells him all the time that he's hot, but Ray just thinks he's a scrawny polack with crazy hair and really amazing luck at getting hot people to sleep with him.

Or tease him to fucking _death_.

"Glad that's clear. Now, you want me to suck you?"

Ray considers how feasible it would be right now to call one of those places where you can hire airplanes to pull banners behind them. Because he would get one in a heartbeat with the word _yes_ in six-thousand-feet-high letters, _fuck_. "Yes, yes, suck me, please, goddamn it, Mike, _please_."

"You are really fucking hot when you beg for it," Mike says, his own voice a little husky, and he gives in and sucks the head of Ray's cock in his mouth, hard. Ray twitches and gasps but Mike _stops_ and holds him down with his hands on Ray's hips, looks up at him and _smirks_, and _fuck_. "Show me you want it, Ray. Come on. Convince me you _deserve_ it. Maybe I'll even let you have it."

Ray _growls_ at that, because _what_? Isn't that what he's _doing_, with all the writhing and _please_ and the encouraging grasp on Mike's shoulder and the shoving? Mike lowers his head and _breathes_ on his cock, just breathes, and Ray feels like he's probably going to die before he gets to come. He keeps talking, because Mike likes that--"Please, want it, need it, suck me, let me fuck your mouth, come on, _fuck_, want it, Mike, come on, _please_"--and he tries to break Mike's hold on his hips and thrust up, get his cock deep in the warm-hot-wet _god so good_ of Mike's mouth, but nothing, nada, _no_.

"Let you fuck my mouth? You're going to have to do better if _that's_ what you want," Mike informs him, but his eyes aren't cold anymore. They're bright and hot, and Ray can see Mike's hips moving restlessly against the mattress. Fuck, that's making it _worse_, knowing Mike is turned on and _still_ teasing him and where does he get the willpower for this, anyway?

"Okay, fine, you can fuck _my_ mouth," Ray offers, switching tactics. "Hard as you want, can take it, you know I can."

"I can do that anytime I want, Kowalski, and if I wanted to do it right now, you'd be choking on my cock instead of begging to do it to _me_," Mike points out smugly, and his hand is between Ray's legs, rubbing his balls, not hard enough, not hard enough at _all_.

"What do you _want_?" Ray asks finally, leaning up on his elbows, giving Mike a bewildered look. Which changes into a moan as Mike's hand rubs hard at his balls and his mouth sinks over his cock, yes, _fuck_, but then okay _no_, he's stopping, why is he _stopping_.

"That was a good start," Mike says huskily. "I said I want you desperate for it, Kowalski. Show me desperate and you can make me take it as hard and fucking fast as you want."

But _how_...?

"Is this one of those things I can't actually do?" Ray asks him, swallowing hard, "Like a trick sex question?"

Mike snorts, licks Ray's cock again like it's a goddamned lollipop, and Ray's brain goes somewhere that doesn't have words for a little while. "I don't know. Maybe. But you're pretty fucking creative, Kowalski. You could at least _try_. That might be enough, you never know."

Mike's hands are easy on him, now, no longer holding tight to his hips. He's still _nuzzling_ Ray's cock, that's the only word for it, and now there's no painful fingers and no pinching and _why is Mike torturing him_ like this?

_Sadist_, his brain supplies, and Ray groans and falls back on the bed.

"Fuck!" he shouts, loud, because he's so _frustrated_ and he can't _stand_ it anymore. Ray reaches up and sinks his hand in his own hair, starts pulling frantically, _hard hard hard_, fingers tight in the short, spiky strands. His back arches, and this is good, this is helping, fuck it, he doesn't need Mike--

"Fuck, Kowalski," Mike says, voice rough. "You do that a lot?"

Ray has no idea where he finds the ability to speak, but he answers truthfully. "Sometimes--when I--jack off," he pants, tugging hard again, tilting his chin down.

"Yeah? Fuck. Do it harder," Mike says, looking up at him with a predatory gaze, his hand curling around the base of Ray's cock.

Ray _does_, and he manages to say, "S'why I like it so much why you--do this to me--when I suck your cock," and tugs hard again.

"Keep doing it. Don't stop," Mike orders, so Ray doesn't, and when his hips buck up the next time, his cock slides deep into Mike's mouth and oh _fuck yes, finally._

Ray keeps pulling his own hair while he thrusts hard and fast, and his cock hits the back of Mike's throat once, twice, three times and Mike is _choking_ but he doesn't back off, and when he swallows and sucks _hard_ Ray comes and thinks he might be dying.

A few long seconds later, Ray opens his eyes and Mike is straddling him, face flushed, mouth wet. Ray blinks sleepily at him, stretches, and says smugly, "Guess it wasn't a trick sex question after all, huh?"

Then he can't say anything all, because Mike's cock is in his mouth and now he's got _Mike's_ hand in his hair, pulling tight, and Ray doesn't even _think_ about teasing him.

Well, okay, he thinks about it. But then Mike growls out _you're such a fucking slut for me, Kowalski, and I fucking love it,_ and then Ray can't think about anything at all, and thinking is overrated, anyway.


End file.
